


Wanting

by shapinguptobeprettyood



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Character Study, F/M, wifegate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 10:09:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5452817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shapinguptobeprettyood/pseuds/shapinguptobeprettyood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder always has the question looming over his head: what do you want?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wanting

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I tried to write something long, and it seems I can spout Mulder exposition well. I might write something like this for Scully.

Mulder wondered how many times he had asked himself the question currently drumming into his head; _What do you want?_  
He was confident that most of the time the answer was _I don't know._ That seemed to be a theme in his career. Do you want to deal with having a partner who was assigned specifically to spy on you, to try and rein you in? I don't know, investigating is easier with two people, even if one of those people thought everything coming out of your mouth was horseshit. Do you want to be in the basement for the rest of your life? I don't know, I haven't found the truth yet. Do you want to tell your partner she's the only person left you truly give a damn about? I don't know, I don't want to ruin this. Do you want them to be safe? I don't know, it means I'll never see them again. Do you want to have a normal life with Scully? I don't know, someone awfully important is missing here. Do you want the darkness to consume you again?  
He thought of all the ways Scully had asked him. What do you want, it's three in the fucking morning. What do you want, followed by a seductive smirk and a hand down his pants. What do you want, I'm going to bring over dinner. What do you want, will you be the father of my possible child? What do you want, should we do any more IVF? What do you want, your place or mine? What do you want, Skinner or the Lone Gunmen as godfathers? What do you want, to continue with your search for the truth or be there for your son? What do you want, to stay in the country or to follow Kersh’s advice? What do you want, to have a life or run forever? What do you want, me or the darkness?  
When he was younger, all he wanted was to find Samantha. In 1993, what he wanted changed. Of course the quest was still there, the looming reminder that he couldn't find his sister, he was failing her, had been failing her for years. But he was suddenly sharing the quest with somebody who didn't side eye him in the hallway and call him Spooky behind his back. Sure, she'd called him Spooky to his face, but for once it wasn't malicious. She used it as an icebreaker. She tried to comfort him by calling him Fox, by gently laying a hand over his, by giving him the most piercing, meaningful stare he'd ever seen. She became the drive for his never ending search for the truth. She was the reason he was glad he couldn't pull the trigger on his temple so many times over. He wanted to know who took her, where she was, why she was barren, what the chip did to her, why she got cancer, why she got pregnant against all odds, why she had to give up their son, why she still chose him over everything.  
In 1998, he knew he wanted her. She kept him from turning into a lunatic, from spiraling into obsession. He called her a touchstone, and he meant it. He wanted, needed, her so badly that he was willing to manipulate her with intimacy just to make her stay. But somehow there was truth and sincerity in the manipulation, desire in the desperation.  
But once he had her, he went back to wanting. At night he sunk into her, body and soul, but by day he sunk into the work, the quest for the truth. There were cases when he wouldn't even tell her about them, would just leave in the middle of the night, they wouldn't touch for days and they would argue about him being too invested in the work. She once accused him of not even caring about how reckless he was being even though they were trying to have a baby, for God's sake! It didn't stop until he saw his dead sister in starlight and she saw God in a Buddhist temple. Then he got what he wanted. He had closure. He had Scully telling him she loved him over morning coffee and over deafening passion. He had the x files, neat in their cabinets in a boring basement.  
The truth had stormed back into his life when he was happy, and stole his wants from him. Oregon dragged him down, battered him to death. Oregon took a father from an innocent child. Oregon stole his miracle.  
And then he didn't know what he wanted anymore. There he was, faced with a pregnant partner who wanted a life, and a decades worth of work on the verge of becoming someone else's problem. He was being given the biggest out anyone could ever hope for.  
And he refused it.  
He didn't know what he wanted. So he squandered what he had.  
The darkness was like the turning of tides for him. It was cyclical. And now he was at the lowest point, the time when darkness scratched its way back to him.  
He must have been staring at the door of his office for hours, until he realized he was waiting for Scully to walk through it. She wouldn't. She didn't want the darkness again. Scully wanted to help someone again, to do something tangibly good. What did he have that was tangible? An office papered with conspiracy theories, an empty “guest” bedroom that should have had an eight year old boy in it, in a house he could hardly ever leave.  
He sharply pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk and grabbed the only thing in there. The damn thing was from 1999. Nine years in desks and dressers and pockets. He decided he never wanted it to sit in that drawer again.  
\---  
He told her they would get away from the darkness, and he'd be damned if he didn't mean it. She told him he wasn't funny when he made a joke about Bahamian sunshine, but she smiled and blushed when he started comparing it to her. It was delightfully reminiscent of 1999, when he make her giggle in bed and flustered at the office.  
And when he was silently rowing the tiny, not-quite-trustworthy dinghy out towards another island, he couldn't help but stare in awe at her. Sure, fifteen years had changed her- her hair a bit longer and a bit faded, her face a bit thinner and her stomach a bit softer, punctuated with faint silver lines- but she was still his Scully, the 29 year old, doe eyed, petite, fresh from Quantico agent who'd offered her hand and a smirk. Although her sense of fashion had improved, he mused as he really took in the black bikini and how damn _good_ it looked on her. There was a twitch deep in his abdomen that he ignored as they got close to an island that looked as good as any to stop at.  
“Scully.” His throat scratched from disuse even though his voice was soft.  
“Hm?” she murmured drowsily, shielding her eyes with a hand.  
“Come on, honey,” he murmured, reaching for her other hand as he dismounted from the rowboat. The box weighed heavily in the pocket of his board shorts.  
Another pulse flared through him as she stretched languidly. He was so sure of this.  
She accused him of being a grumpy old man when he refused to join her in the astonishingly blue waters, only going so far as to feel it lapping around his ankles, and he laughed at her when she misjudged a wave and was suddenly spitting out saltwater and soaking stands of hair.  
It was only when she was half-dozing comfortably next to him on the enormous beach towel that he found the courage to pull the box from his pocket. “Scully, do you know what I want?” He toyed with the box for a moment.  
She turned to look at him, concerned at the sudden shift of mood. “What do you want, Mulder?”  
Propping the ring box open and balancing it on one of her thighs, he whispered, “I want you. I want you to be my light in the darkness.”

**Author's Note:**

> every time I typed the word darkness my brain instantly started singing either The Sound of Silence or Batman's song from the Lego Movie.


End file.
